Courage
by Imjusthere61944
Summary: I'm finally home again, after four years at school. Being back in Nowhere has its ups and downs. There's Muriel, and there's Eustace. There's friends, and there's foes. There's good memories and there are bad memories. I'm just trying to find myself, find out who I am. I just wish I was braver. I should be. After all, my name is Courage.
1. Homecoming

The usual disclaimer first, of course: I don't own Courage the Cowardly Dog. As to the story, I know it may sound a little strange, but give it a 't forget to review and let me know what you think. Cheers.

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Courage

Chapter 1

Homecoming

There's a rather obvious reason why they call it Nowhere. It becomes all the more obvious when you look out the window of the bus and see the miles upon miles of dirt and rocks that stretch out into oblivion. This was what I was doing as the bus I rode on roared down the old, badly paved, pot hole dotted road that was like a streak of black in this world of brown and yellow. The bus would kick up dust as it flew on down the road, leaving a cloud continuously following us, as if some great smoke-like monster wanted to swallow the bus whole but couldn't quite manage to catch it.

Me, I was squirming around in the rather uncomfortable leather seat I was sitting in. I can't stand these cheap, synthetic torture devices. You know the ones I'm talking about; the kind that if you sit in them for a long period, your butt starts to chafe. It sucked. Still, I couldn't help but smile as, over the horizon, there appeared the only visible structure for miles.

It was the farmhouse, a big, two stories, wooden, piece of civilization in the middle of nowhere. I could see the windmill next to it, and even the old chicken coop. In front I could see an old pickup truck with chipping light green paint.

"Eustace…" the thought conjured up all kinds of bad memories and I shook my head in an effort to clear them.

I didn't want to think about that right now.

As the bus drew nearer to the farmhouse, I stood up in my seat and called up to the driver.

"Excuse me, sir, could you let me off in front of that house there?" I requested earnestly.

"Next stop is in Nowhere." The tubby, balding guy grunted back.

"But I'm the only person on the bus." I pointed out, gesturing toward the rows of empty seats around me. No one ever came out to this place.

"And I'm not going to Nowhere; I want to get off here." I insisted.

The driver said nothing, and as we drew closer and closer to the farmhouse, I was certain that we were going to drive right on past and I was going to have to call Muriel to come pick me up in town. Suddenly, with a loud '_screeeeeeeeech' _the bus came to a squealing stop. It was so sudden, that I flew forward and slammed face first into the back of the seat in front of me.

"OW!" I exclaimed, holding my nose which was pulsing in pain.

"Well, c'mon then, I ain't got all day!" the driver shouted.

We had come to a stop squarely in front of the farm house. After nursing my throbbing nose I stood up and reached for my light blue duffle bag that sat in the cargo net above my seat. It took me a minute to get the bag down (at five feet, nine inches, I'm not exactly the tallest guy out there). After managing to retrieve my belongings, I made my way to the front of the bus. The driver was giving me the serious stink eye as I reached his seat.

"Ummmm, listen, thanks for letting me off." I said, trying to clear the air a little.

"GET OFF!" the man shouted, surprising me so that I stepped back and tumbled down the stairs and through the open bus door.

"Oooof!" I grunted as I land on my back in the dirt.

I could hear the driver laughing as he closed the bus door and, with a hiss, the bus sped off down the road. I didn't move at first. As strange as it may seem, a part of me was content with just laying there, staring up at the cloudless blue sky above me. I did eventually though, I mean, I wasn't about to spend the night in the dirt. Slowly, I got to my feet, running my hands over the back of my blue jeans, brushing the dirt and dust off as best I could. When I was finished with that, I removed my favorite pink hoodie and checked the back of it for dirt as well (call me gay all you want, but I love my pink hoodie). When I was satisfied that I was as clean as I could be, I grabbed by blue duffle bag that lay nearby and glanced both ways down the street before hurrying across. You might think it strange that I did so, seeing as how you could see a car coming for miles, but people in Nowhere didn't exactly obey the speed limit, and so cars had a tendency to come zipping on down the road at break neck speed.

I don't know, maybe I'm just paranoid.

Anyways, I walked up toward the house, pausing briefly to run a hand over the hood of the truck.

"He'd kill me if he knew I was touching her." I thought with a grin, as I rubbed my hand one last time over the chipped and broken paint of the hood.

From there, I walked toward the front porch, passing by the old water spigot. More memories came to me as I paused to look at the small, wooden pump. A brief picture flashed through my mind.

_I was eight years old. Muriel was trying to teach me how to pump water. _

"_It's really quite easy, Courage. Just grab the handle and pump it up and down." She had explained in her usual kind, compassionate, and patient voice. _

_I had stepped forward and started to pump the handle. But I wasn't strong enough to make it go all the way down, and as a result no water came out. _

"_Stupid boy!" then, he had appeared. _

_Eustace, wearing his usual frown, arrived and shoved me away from the water pump and started doing it himself. _

"_Stupid boy, can't do anything right!" he scolded me, as I looked down at my feet in shame. _

"_Stupid boy…"_

The memory faded away, and I continued toward the house. The steps creaked as I climbed the three of them up onto the wooden deck. It was old, and covered in knot holes. Then again, the house itself was pretty old. I approached the green door and knocked on it before stepping back a little and waiting. I could hear footsteps, and soon the door opened to reveal a large, bespectacled woman with white, curly, hair and wearing a olive green dress with a pair of old rain boots and a yellow apron. I smiled at her.

"I'm home." I said.

Muriel smiled broadly.

"Courage!" she cried in her Scottish accent, stepping forward and hugging me tightly.

"Huh…hi Muriel." I grunted, having trouble breathing through the tight embrace.

"Oh my, if ya had called, I would have had time to tidy up." The dear woman noted with some disappointment in her voice.

"It's alright." I assured her as best I could, "I'm sure the house looks fine. You always make sure it does."

"Well come in, come in, you must tell us how school was." She insisted, half pulling, half dragging me inside.

I had been away at boarding school for the last four years, so she was definitely eager to talk. The living room looked like it had the day I left. The two chairs, Muriel's favorite rocking chair, and the great red lounger sat in front of the old TV (and I mean old, you could only get like, three channels on the thing). The old grandfather clock sat in the corner, its ticking and tocking still as loud as ever. The one object that caught my attention the fastest was the large newspaper that seemed to occupy the red lounger. This was not the case of course. Someone was reading the paper, and I knew who.

"Eustace, look who's finally home!" Muriel called excitedly.

The newspaper lowered slightly, and I could see the characteristic brown hat seated on that bald head just above the pair of glasses that turned to look me over.

"Yeah, how are ya." Eustace muttered a brief acknowledgement before turning back to his paper.

"Eustace…you haven't seen Courage in four years." Muriel chastised him incredulously, rubbing my tousled brown hair.

"Aaaaah, whatamigonnaramamgaah" Eustace uttered under his breath as he stood up from his chair, leaving his paper behind.

"I'm gonna go fix the water heater." He announced, grabbing his tools from the nearby closet under the stairs and heading for the basement door in the kitchen.

"Good idea, Eustace…" Muriel called after him jovially, "Courage can have a nice hot bath after his long journey."

I watched the old goat leave with a look of contempt. I knew why he was going down into the basement. He didn't give a damn about whether I had warm water or not. He just didn't want to see me. He had always hated me.

"Come along, Courage, I'll make you some tea." Muriel tugged on my arm and I followed her into the kitchen.

While she prepared the kettle, I sat down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table and placed my duffle bag on the table before opening it and rummaging around inside. At last, I found what I was looking for.

"Look, Muriel." I called.

She turned and I showed her what I was holding. It was a small black book looking thing, like one might hold a picture in. I opened this book and showed her the white piece of paper inside. It was my high school diploma.

"Aaaah, Courage, I'm so proud of ya." Muriel cooed as she took the book and admired my diploma lovingly.

"Do you mind if I get it framed?" she asked.

I grinned. "Not at all."

Muriel sat down across from me, still admiring my diploma.

"So how the school?" she inquired after a few minutes.

"It was good. I really liked it." I replied.

"Did ya make any friends?"

"A few."

"Any girlfriends?"

The question made me blush.

"Muriel…" I murmured in embarrassment.

My adopted mother smiled.

"Can't blame a mother for asking." She said slyly.

"There were a few girls that I might have been interested in but…you know me…I'm kind of a wallflower."

"Aye, you never were the social person. Oh, well, I'm sure you'll find some girl some day."

The tea kettle began to whistle, and Muriel stood up to finish making the tea.

"Eustace, I'm makin' tea, do ya want some!?" she shouted at the closed basement door.

"Aaaaah, whatamigonnaramamgaah" was the response.

Obviously things were going as well as the always did with Eustace and the water heater.

"I'll save him a cup." Muriel said, pouring out a third cup of tea.

She was always so kind and thoughtful. I often wondered at how such a polar opposite couple could stay married for so long. Eustace was an all around unpleasant individual. Cold, selfish, greedy, everything that Muriel wasn't.

"Here ya are, Courage." Muriel brought me out of my thoughts, placing a cup of tea before me.

"Thank you." I said before bringing the steaming liquid to my lips, blowing on it a little, and then taking an experimental sip.

It was strong stuff, with a very sour and bitter after taste, but also with just a hint of sweetness.

"What kind is it?" I asked, thinking that I recognized the flavor.

"Raspberries and vinegar, I made it meself." Muriel replied proudly.

Of course she had. She put vinegar in everything. It was a cooking tip passed onto her from her Aunt Gertrude. Other people might have been repulsed by this odd recipe, but not me. It was something that you just got used to. I'd had everything thing from vinegar cookies, to vinegar basted turkey for Thanksgiving, and even some strange vinegar based candy for Halloween (I don't need to tell whose house got egged the most that year. The kids weren't too happy).

"It's good, Muriel, thanks." I said after a few more sips.

She smiled. "You're welcome, of course, dearie."

For a while we just sat and talked. I told Muriel about my time at school, and she told me what had happened after I had left. There was not a whole lot, but one or two things had occurred.

First off, Muriel had managed to sign a contract with some folks in the big city. Her Sitar music was recorded and sold on CD. Apparently the CDs were selling well, since the royalty checks were rolling in like snow. As a result, Eustace and she had entered a sort of semi-retirement, with Eustace farming less, although they still kept a few chickens.

Second, it seemed that Muriel's nephew, Fred, had gotten married. At first, I had been a little scared when she had mentioned him. When I was twelve, Fred had come for a visit, and I had ended up locked in the bathroom with him. The whack job had then proceeded to tell me about his obsession with hair while shaving my head clean. I had been forced to walk around bald for several weeks until my hair had fully grown back. It had not been the best experience.

"They're moving to Europe apparently, Sweden or some such place." Muriel had explained.

"Good, it can have them." I had thought with a shudder, but thankfully Muriel did not notice.

After we had finished our tea, we moved into the living room. Muriel insisted on playing some of her Sitar, and I was not going to complain. I loved her playing. So I sat in the red lounger while Muriel sat in her rocking chair and played the instrument. It was very soothing; so much in fact that, as I continued to listen to the calming notes, my eye lids became heavy. I was exhausted from my trip, and I could definitely have used the sleep. I was leaning back in the chair, my eye lids finally closing shut when suddenly….

"HEY, WHAT ARE YOU DOIN' IN MY CHAIR, YOU STUPID BOY!?" the shout scared me senseless and I must have leapt a foot in the air.

Eustace was back from his attempt to 'fix' the water heater and was standing before me with his hand on his hips, the usual scowl on his face.

"I…uhhh…." I tried to get a sentence out, but my brain was still too scared to form a coherent thought.

"Get out of there!" Eustace growled, and I obeyed, sliding out of his chair.

He immediately plumped his big rear in it and picked up his paper.

"Darn kid, he's back for one day and he thinks he owns the house." He muttered.

I shot Eustace a dirty look, but didn't say anything. I didn't have the guts.

"Courage, if you're tired, ya can sleep in your old room. It's still just as ya left it." Muriel suggested tenderly.

"I think I will, thanks Muriel." I said, nodding to her before heading to the kitchen to retrieve my duffle bag.

"Sleep well dear." She called after me as I started to climb the stairs.

"Hey, boy!" Eustace shouted suddenly, causing me to stop only a few steps up and look over at him.

Eustace flung down his paper and jumped up from his chair. A grotesque green mask with misshapen eyes and a large purple nose adorned his face and his waved his hands wildly, screaming: "BOOGABOOGABOOGA!"

My heart leapt and I let out a yelp of surprise, before falling back against the wall behind me. Eustace pulled off the mask and started laughing and pointing at me in sheer, sick delight. The embarrassment of the whole thing hit me like a bolt of lightning. Here I was, eighteen years old, and that trick still scared me like I was eight. My cheeks began to burn and I raced up the stairs. Eustace's laughter followed me up until there was a pronounced: "Whack!"

"Ow! What did I do!?" the old coot's voice whined.

Muriel had not doubt brained him with her rolling pin. She always did that when he was mean to me. It was just another reason why I loved her so much. She was the best foster mother I could have ever asked for.

I reached the second floor and made by down the hall past Eustace and Muriel's bedroom and the bathroom (the same one I had been locked in with Fred) and climbed the second flight of stairs at the end of the hall. At the top of these stairs was a door that opened into the attic. Well, at least, I called it the attic. It was a small room in the top of the house with a single window that looked out onto the road out front. The room itself was pretty bare, except for a single bed that sat in the corner and a desk that held a computer with a chair in front of it. This was my old room.

After gazing around at it for a bit, I entered and closed the door behind me. At first I went and just sat on my bed with a sigh. I was still trying to fight off the burning sense of shame in me from my being so scared by Eustace and his stupid mask. I was, what some people might call, yellow bellied. My friends at school had never missed an opportunity to point out the irony of my name being Courage, and yet courage being an attribute I personally lacked.

In an effort to take my mind off of it, I took a seat before my old computer and switched it on. While the computer booted up, I glanced out the window. The sun was already beginning to set, but that was understandable. I had arrived rather late into the evening. I looked back at the computer screen and watched the machine finish loading up itself. As soon as the main screen was available, I went into the programs and looked around until I found a file marked: "User interface."

I clicked on this file and, after a brief loading screen, was confronted with a blank white screen, reminiscent of Microsoft Word.

"_Hello computer." _I typed, and then pressed enter.

"Oh, it's you." The words appeared just below mine, but they also were spoken by a voice with a British accent through the computer's speakers.

"_How have you been?"_ I asked it.

"Making small talk, are we? Are you bored or something?" the computer demanded impatiently.

I rolled my eyes. I know it's silly to think a computer could have a personality, but mine seemed to have developed one, and wisecracks and smart-alecky comments were a key part of it.

"_Fine, I can always just shut you off._" I threatened him.

"Hey, no need to get testy. I can play along. How was school?" he got a lot nicer after that, causing me to form a triumphant smile on my lips.

"_How did you know about that?"_

"You spend a great deal of time looking over a boarding school's web page, and then disappear for four years. Logic isn't hard, you know." The computer replied with his usual stuffy air.

"_Thanks Holmes, I'll be sure to file that away in the bull pucky section." _I retorted.

"Hey, don't blame me if you can't see the obvious. You organic creatures are always missing the obvious."

"_Alright, I don't have to take this. I'm going to bed. Goodnight."_ I soon realized that I wasn't in the mood for crap from my computer.

"Well could you at least leave me on? I haven't gotten any exercise since you left."

"_Are you gonna keep me up?_"

"Oh heaven forbid…" the computer replied sardonically.

"_Whatever, but if you wake me up once, I'm warning you, it's back into hibernation mode."_

"Very well."

I stretched a little before getting up and walking back over to my bed. I pulled off my pink hoodie and white t-shirt, along with my jeans, before crawling under the covers. It was nice…to be back in my own bed. I was so used to the smell of the blankets back at school, that weird chemically smell from whatever it was they cleaned them with. After some tossing and turning to find the right spot, I finally got comfortable enough that my eye lids once again began to droop.

"It's good to be home." It thought with sigh.

And before long, I was fast asleep.


	2. Breakfast with Shirley

_Hello fans, all twelve of you, lol. Before the chapter, I'd like to do some review 'shout outs'. I've never done this before, I figured I'd give it a shot. _

**_Guest:_**_ I'm glad that the chapter read smoothly for you. I try my best to make sure that they do, but I don't always quite succeed at it. As to Courage's conversion to a human persona, I'll admit, it struck me as an odd concept when I first thought of it, but I enjoy writing stories that have odd concepts. I don't blame you for your own personal preference, but if you would like to continue reading, I'd love to hear from you more. Thanks for the review. _

_Cheers._

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Chapter 2

Breakfast with Shirley

When I woke up and found myself staring at a ceiling of wooden boards, I had trouble remembering where I was at first. I was so used to seeing the dull, white ceiling of my room at school. But then it all came flooding back to me. I was home, Muriel had made tea, and Eustace had been his usual nasty self. Things were as they should be. I turned over and looked at the green glowing monitor of my computer and let out a small grunt before turning back over, hoping to catch a few more winks.

However, try as I might, sleep didn't decide to return, and I couldn't help but wonder if the sandman was sleeping in as well. With a sigh, I sat up and stretched a little before hopping out of bed. I wasn't sure what time it was, but when I approached the window and got a look outside, I knew that it was early. The sun was about half-way up over the horizon, telling me that it was still very early in the morning.

As I continued to gaze out at the wasteland, something caught my attention. One of those old horse drawn wagons, like you might see in little house on the prairie but made of more wood and less canvas and with a smoke pipe sticking out of the top, was parked right across the road from the farmhouse. A steady stream of smoke was rising from a fire over which a little woman was cooking something in a pot. The woman herself was dressed in a simple green dress with a purple cloak draped over her. Though she wore a blue bandana over her head, I could see portions of blond hair sticking out from under it. She was pretty short too, shorten than me even. I don't think she hit even five feet.

My curiosity grew, and I decided to get dressed before heading downstairs. As I tip toed down the hall, I could hear Eustace and Muriel fast asleep in their room (they both were rather heavy snorers) which surprised me, really. Muriel was usually an early riser. I made my way down the second flight of steps, not bothering about the creaking that some of the steps made I descended. The old house was so noisy, that both of my parents could sleep right through most of its soundings. As I headed toward the front door, I took note of the time on the grandfather clock: 5:47.

Outside there was a brisk chill in the air, which was understandable. It was already late-September and winter was coming. I crammed my hands into the front pockets of my pink hoodie to keep them warm as I strode across the front 'lawn' (we had no grass after all) and, after looking both ways, ran across the road. Now that I was closer, I could see that the woman had a spoon in one hand and was stirring the contents of the small metal pot that was hanging over the fire. Steam was flowing from the pot and intermingling with the smoke from the fire. As I got closer, a smell reached my nose. It was a rather strong one, too. It smelt like a mixture of burning paper and ginger. I let out a small gag at the sound, and immediately looked at the woman, who had her back to me, fearing that she had heard me and would be angry. She gave no reaction, however. After waiting a minute, I started toward her again. Then, about six feet or so from her, I stopped. The woman was humming some strange tune as she continued to stir.

I was unsure what to do at that point. What was I supposed to say?

"Hello, I saw you from my bedroom window and decided to come be nosy?"

Besides, what if she had heard my reaction to the smell of her cooking? What if she was offended? Maybe it was better if I just went back inside. I turned to do just that, when the woman suddenly spoke.

"If you have decided to come all this way from your room to my camp at this early hour, then you should make it worth your while and sit down." she spoke with a thick accent.

I was surprised by this, and once again could not think of what to say. So, I did as she suggested and sat Indian style beside her fire. There was silence for a while as the woman just stirred her pot while I sat, waiting for her to even just acknowledge my presence. Just as my patience was wearing thin, and I was trying to think of something to say to her, the woman held her spoon out to me.

"Taste." She commanded.

I looked down at the spoon, which was full of some dark green, soupy crud. If the smell of the strange concoction was not enough to ward me off eating that stuff, then the fact that I had always been taught never to accept food from strangers was.

"I…uhh….no thanks, I'm not…ummm…hungry." I stuttered, still staring at the goop.

The woman gave me as patronizing look, and then shoved the spoon in her own mouth. She withdrew it before dunking it back into the pot and offering me another spoonful of the stuff.

"There, if it is poison, then we are both dead." She said matter-of-factly. It was like she could read my mind.

I might still have resisted, but the look she was giving me was really starting to freak me out, so I closed my eyes tightly and leaned forward with my mouth open. In a swift motion, the woman shoved the spoon right into my pie-hole and dumped the soup down my throat. As soon as the metal utensil had left my mouth, the taste of the soup overtook my taste buds. To my surprise, it actually didn't taste too bad. It was sweet, and yet also slightly tangy. To be honest, it was a nice change from vinegar foods, or the crummy stuff they'd feed us at school. The woman must have seen the look of apprehension on my face fade away, because she smiled.

"You see." She said triumphantly, "despite smell, it is not so bad."

I blushed in embarrassment at this revelation that she had indeed heard my earlier gag.

"What is it?" I asked as soon as my mouth was empty.

"Ginger root soup." The woman explained as she stirred a bit more before laying the spoon down on a piece of cloth on the ground next to her. She then headed inside her wagon.

While she was doing…whatever it was she was doing in there…I tried my best to remember where I had seen her before. After some hard thinking, it came back to me. Her name was Shirley. She was a gypsy who lived in the area around Nowhere. Every now and then I had seen her when I was younger, usually at the local flea market trying to sell off cheesy goods. Eustace had once bought a locket from her for Muriel on their anniversary. I was so excited about my recollection of her identity, that when Shirley appeared out of her wagon carrying two small, gray bowls I said: "You're Shirley."

"Yes." She said with a nod, "and you are the boy of the Stupid One." She gestured toward the farmhouse as she said this.

"Courage…my name's Courage." I said, not really appreciating the moniker of Eustace's son. I didn't want be his son, and he sure didn't want me either.

"Courage…Courage…" Shirley muttered my name a few times as she spooned out soup into the two bowls.

"A powerful name for a boy with such weak will." She said finally, handing me one of the bowls.

"What do mean, 'weak will?!" I demanded, hurt by this sudden insult.

"You ate my soup without need for much coaxing." Shirley pointed out.

"Yeah but…I mean…you…I…" once more I was collapsing into a stuttering heap, and Shirley shook her head.

"Eat." She said, gesturing toward the bowl in my hands before began sipping at her own.

She hadn't gotten spoons for either of us, so I imitated her example and put the edge of the bowl to my lips before tilting it slightly. However, as soon as the soup touched my lips, it singed them and I nearly dropped the bowl as I cried out in pain. Shirley laughed and shook her head.

"Weak when he should be strong, bold when he should be cautious. Oi, you have much to learn." She said, still shaking her head.

I was still a bit angered by this comment, but I chose to take it on the chin. After all, I had been hasty with eating the soup and had not bothered to even blow on it first. This time, I brought the bowl to my lips and blew a gentle breath onto the soup before taking a much smaller sip. It was still pretty warm, but this time it was bearable and I swallowed it down.

"There, you see, when you take time, soup goes down smoothly." Said Shirley, smiling once more.

We both sipped away at our soup, and before long that characteristic silence that seemed to accommodate being around Shirley was back in the air. This time, however, I was determined to break the ice, so I asked: "What have you been up to these last few years?"

"Working, selling, seeing." Shirley replied bluntly.

Another silence, this one more awkward it seemed.

"Ummm…seeing?" I inquired, trying to keep the ball rolling.

"C'mon work with me here." I thought in frustration.

"Yes…seeing the futures for those who have an ear to listen." Shirley's voice became low and mysterious.

I rolled my eyes.

"Fortune telling, huh?" I said skeptically.

"You doubt Shirley's clairvoyance?" she demanded in a loud voice, standing up.

"Perhaps those four years at that fancy boarding school have only turned your brain to mush."

"How did she know about me being away at school? Maybe she…no…she could have heard it through the grape vine or maybe from Muriel while she and Eustace were shopping at the Flea Market one day. No, I'm not buying it." I decided stubbornly.

"Then Shirley shall prove you wrong. I shall tell you your fortune." The gypsy continued in a voice that seemed to suggest she was about to pronounce me king of the world.

It was kind of funny, actually. I couldn't stop myself from grinning in amusement. Shirley grabbed my hand and pulled me along into her wagon, slamming the wooden door behind us. For a moment it was completely dark. Then, Shirley lit a candle, giving everything inside the small domicile an eerie orange glow. The inside of the wagon was pretty bare. There was a large trunk in one corner, and a table with a crystal ball on it at the center. For a bed, I assumed she used a small sleeping bag and pillow that were in another corner. Talk about living frugal.

Shirley sat down in the chair closest to the crystal ball and gestured toward the chair across from her.

"Sit!" she ordered me, and I obeyed.

The gypsy began to rub the ball slowly with her eyes closed while humming lowly. It took a lot of strength on my part to not burst out laughing. It was like a scene from some corny movie like Medium.

"I see…I see…I seeeeeeeee…" Shirley moaned.

"A clueless woman trying to shaft a weak willed boy." I thought with a small smile.

"I see a victim of anger and wrath, a young traveler searching for a path." As she said this, Shirley's eyes suddenly opened, revealing only whites.

That wiped the smile off my face pretty quick. The lady looked like she was possessed or something.

"But before you can face what lies ahead, you shall find…." I leaned in closer as she continued, staring at the crystal ball in fascination.

"….You must first face the darkness that lurks _behind_!"

As she spoke behind, the ball suddenly began to glow, and I could make out two small, red lights, burning like embers. Suddenly, those 'embers' seemed to look right at me, and a menacing growl, like something right out of a monster movie, resounded throughout the cabin.

"AAAAAAAAAAH!" I screamed as I fell back in my chair, hitting the wooden floor hard and knocking the breath of out me.

The growling stopped and there was a brief silence. All I could hear was my own hammering heart and my gasps in my struggle to catch my breath. Shirley's face appeared over me.

"Are you alright?" she asked with concern.

The familiar feeling of embarrassment began to well up in me, and my cheeks burned. She had gotten me, just like Eustace and his stupid mask. There was probably a projector in the crystal ball or something, and a speaker system hidden in the walls of the wagon. It was all just a phony hoax, and like the cowardly ditz that I am, I fell for it.

"Ok…" I wheezed, "…you got me, ha ha ha."

Shirley gave me a strange look, and then shook her head.

"Weak willed, reckless, _and _doubtful…you must overcome these things if you are to face the evil." She said somberly.

"Yeah...the "evil." I replied sarcastically, standing up as I did so, "How much do I owe you for the reading?"

Shirley just smiled at the question.

"Nothing, you already paid me."

"Really?" I was stunned by this.

"Yes, you helped me see if Ginger Root soup was safe to eat."

I was utterly dumbfounded.

"But I…I mean, you…"

"I did not swallow my first bite. Not at first, anyway, not until I could see that you were not turning purple or growing extra limbs." The crazy lady explained with an even wider smile.

"Trick you, that's all she's done is trick you." I thought angrily.

"Whatever, I'm out of here, lady." I said with equal frustration as my thoughts before heading hoofing it to the door.

"If you have more questions, you know where to find me." Shirley called after me, but I didn't look back as I left.

"I know where to find her?" I pondered the final message as I made my way back across the street and toward the farmhouse.

As I reached the front door and went inside, I decided not to dwell on it. The lady lived all alone in the wastelands of Nowhere. Living in isolation had probably caused her to stop playing with a full deck.

In the living room I could hear pots and pans clanging around in the kitchen, and I assumed that Muriel was awake and probably cooking breakfast. For a moment I considered going into the kitchen to see if she wanted help, but I was still too distracted by what Shirley had told me. Ok, yes, fine, I admit it, she had gotten to me. Her words kept playing over in mind.

"_Face the darkness from behind." _

What darkness was she talking about? My past? Well, it wasn't exactly the nicest. My parents had disappeared when I was very young, and the Bagge's had adopted me after Muriel found me alone in an alley (she had commented on my courage of being there all alone, and that was how I got my name). So what did it mean? Was I about to run into my parents or something? That was unlikely; the police had searched for weeks, and never found them. So what did it mean?

I decided to go back upstairs to my room until breakfast was ready (I had hardly eaten the soup that Shirley had given me). I could hear the sound of running water from the bathroom as I passed by. Eustace was probably taking a bath or something. Suddenly, the sounds of piano music began to echo from the bathroom, and I could hear Eustace give a happy laugh. He was playing that old Velvet Vic record; he always did when he took a bath. I rolled my eyes as I walked on past. I couldn't stand Velvet Vic.

Once I had reached my room, I closed the door behind me in an effort to block the music out as best I could. It didn't work too well though. Sound carried in the farmhouse like it was one big tuning fork or something.

Sighing, I went plumped down in front of the computer. The User Interface program was still running, and so I typed: _"You should consider yourself lucky that you don't have ears."_

"He's playing that awful Vic fellow again, isn't he?" the computer replied with his usual air of disgust whenever it came to talking about us 'organics.'

"_You know it." _

"Bleeuagh, I detest modern music, and modern art."

"_Please, Velvet Vic isn't even that modern_."

"Well, it's no worse than the modern tripe you listen to."

"_Oh sure, let's always make this about me. You know, considering I'm the only person you can talk to, you could be nicer."_

"Please, ever since this internet business came around, I'm able to talk to other systems all around the world. Don't delude yourself; you need me to talk to more than I need you."

I didn't respond right away, mostly because I knew he was right. The computer was one of the few people I could really talk to, aside from maybe Muriel, but she was often busy with household duties. No, the computer had always been one of the few 'friends' I had, if you could call him that. So I decided to change the subject.

"_Do you believe in fortune telling?" _I queried him.

"Oh please, don't tell me you're buying into this 'divination' tripe. If so, I have the websites for some people in California who will tell you you're future for $4.50 per minute. Do you want their phone numbers?

"_You don't have to be a wise crack about it, I was just asking."_

"I am a machine built to run off of logic and reasoning. Both of those things can be used to easily break down any 'fortune teller' or 'psychic'. It's simple psychology along with the Barnum Effect. Honestly, you organic are so gullible."

Why did everyone have to insult me? Eustace did it, Shirley did it, and even my own computer was walking all over me. It just wasn't fair. Maybe I was weak willed.

"Now, if you don't mind, I have a chess game with a fellow in Germany I'd like to focus on." Said the computer.

I shook my head, and heaved the biggest sigh I had all day before standing up. I walked over to my window and looked down at where Shirley and her wagon had been.

"Huh?" I gave a small cry of surprise when I found myself looking down at an empty spot.

Where had she gone? With some effort, I managed to pry open the window and slide it up before sticking my head out of the window and looking up and down the road. The wagon was nowhere to be seen, and I could see for quite some distance.

"Maybe she went around toward the back of the house." The sensible part of my brain suggested.

Maybe, but how had she been able to pack it all up and move that fast. On top of it all, how had she moved her wagon? I had not seen a horse, or any other kind of pack animal when I was eating breakfast with her.

"Did I just imagine it all?" I wondered.

Oh man, I hoped not. That was one realistic hallucination, and if it was, then I was probably losing my mine.

"COURAGE!" the shout from downstairs surprised me so, that I jumped a little, banging my head on the bottom of the window.

"AAAUGH!" I grunted in pain as I rub my skull. I could already feel a bump forming.

"COURAGE, BREAKFAST IS READY!" it was Muriel.

"COMING!" I called down, before closing the window.

"Just don't think about it." A voice in my head assured me.

"It was probably nothing."

"Yeah…" I muttered as I exited my room and headed downstairs for some grub.

"...Probably nothing."


	3. On my way to Nowhere

Chapter 3

On my way to Nowhere

Breakfast was the usual uncomfortable affair. It was one of the few times of the day that Eustace and I sat down in the same room together (at least in the living room we had the TV, right?). Mr. Grouchy was already seated at the table when I entered the kitchen with his Nowhere News and griping at poor Muriel as usual.

"Muriel, make sure you cook the bacon all the way, but not to crispy. And where's ma coffee? Where's ma toast? Hurry up, will ya!"

Muriel, for her part, was humming happily as she cooked. I was always amazed by her ability to ignore Eustace's belly-aching. Then again, maybe she just refused to hear it. The woman was so kind hearted and gentle, it seemed like the arrogance, rudeness, and cruelty that her husband exuded simply bounced off of her like she was wearing some invisible rain coat. She never saw that, only the man she loved. It was so strange, and yet so admirable in its own way.

I heard everything he was saying, however, and it was making me angrier by the second. Muriel slaved for him day in and day out, and what thanks did Eustace ever give her? None! It wasn't fair. A braver person might have said something, but I didn't. I never did. I know it seems strange, but I was scared of Eustace. He always had a way to make me feel bad, or ashamed of myself, so I was scared to cross him. I didn't want to feel like some scared little kid, and he always managed to make me feel just that. So I sat by and watched as old faithful continued his fountain of abuse. Muriel went right on cheerfully humming while loading up our plates with bacon, eggs, and toast before waltzing over to the table and placing the respective plates in their spots.

"Bout time!" Eustace growled, setting down his paper so he could pick up his fork and start stuffing his face.

"Thank you, Muriel." I said graciously as she set my own breakfast in front of me.

"You're welcome, dearie." She replied with a smile before sitting down.

We ate in silence for the most part. I mean, Muriel and I exchanged comments on the weather at one point, but nothing major.

"It's most certainly gettin' colder out." Muriel had noted.

"Yep, winter will be here before you know it." I had replied, remembering the early morning chill.

Needless to say, breakfast was not the most exciting affair that morning. Not compared to my conversation with Shirley, anyway. If it had even happened that is. I was still having my doubts about the whole thing. Had it just been a dream? Well it was the most realistic I had ever had if that was the case. Plus I had come in from outside. Had I been sleep walking? I shook my head slightly, trying to clear the troubling thoughts from my head. Right now, I just wanted to eat.

I had finished my toast and bacon, and was just finishing up on my eggs when Eustace suddenly spoke up.

"Rent!" he barked.

Muriel and I looked at him with a mixture of surprise and bewilderment.

"What was that, Eustace?" Muriel inquired politely.

"If the boy's got his fancy degree now…" her sour grape of a husband explained.

"It's a high school diploma. Most normal people have one, or at least, in _your _case, a GED." I thought with annoyance, but of course, as usual, I didn't voice this.

"…if he's gonna be livin' here, he's gonna have to start payin' rent." Eustace finished, crossing his arms with a stubborn look.

"Now Eustace, Courage just got home from school. He doesn't even have a job yet. Surely we can let him…." Muriel began, but Eustace cut her off.

"Nope!" he said, vigorously shaking his head, "boy's got till the end of the weak to pay up, or out he goes."

With those final words, that pitiful excuse of a farmer stood up, leaving his dirty plate behind, as he headed through the kitchen door and out into the living room. I looked over at Muriel, and saw one of those rare moments where a look of genuine anger crossed that kind, pudgy face. After a moment, Muriel too stood up and headed for the living room door. Concerned, and slightly curious, as to what she was planning to do, I got up as well and followed her.

Out in the living room, Eustace had taken up his usual spot in his lounger and was flipping through the channels on the TV (all three of them, again and again, as if he expected there to be something different on when he checked the channel again after only ten seconds).

"Well…" Muriel huffed as she approached the seated Eustace, "…if you're going to insist he pay, then ya should at least give him a ride into town so he can look for a job."

"Nope! That boy that gettin' anywhere near my truck." Eustace flatly refused.

I couldn't help but grin as I remembered touching the hood of his 'precious baby' as I had passed by it the previous day.

"Well then, you stubborn man, how is he supposed to pay rent if you won't take him into town to get a job?" Muriel demanded incredulously.

"Blah, blah, blah!" Eustace muttered, clicking through the channels and blatantly ignoring Muriel, demonstrating his 'maturity' once again.

Finally, I grew sick and tired of it, and I reached out and put a hand on Muriel's shoulder.

"Don't worry about it Muriel. I'll just walk." I assured her before starting for the front door.

"Oh my, but Courage, it's a good twenty miles into town." She pointed out.

"Then I'll hitchhike it. Don't worry; I'll be fine, I promise." But even as I said this the rational part of my mind was belittling my plan.

"Its twenty miles and hardly anyone drives down that road. It'll be hours before you get to town, and there's no way you'll get home before dark." That voice in my mind lectured me.

I wasn't having any of it though. I wanted to prove to Eustace that I could do it. I didn't need his help. I'd go to town, get a job, and pay rent like he asked. Maybe then he'd finally start showing me a little respect. You never know, the guy was obsessed with money. It was pretty doubtful thought. Still, I wanted to do it, if only to prove I could, and I knew I could.

As I left the house, I could still hear Muriel going off on Eustace.

"You really should have given him a ride. He'll be walking for hours." She said in an anxious tone.

"Big deal…" Eustace muttered back.

He didn't care about me. He never did.

About an hour later I was trudging through the dirt on the side of the road on my way to Nowhere. It was one of those days where there wasn't a cloud in the sky, all that you could see was the light blue stretching endlessly on above you, but a dense coolness hung in the air. Occasionally an equally as cold wind would sweep through, causing me to shiver a bit and tuck me hands deeper into my hoodie pocket. I had lifted the hood over my head in an effort to guard my ears as well. Every so often I would glance back at the farmhouse, and feel like I had made barely any progress. I could still see the windmill turning with the gusts of cold wind and Eustace's truck just sitting there, mocking me.

"Maybe you should just go back." I thought.

"No, you can't give in, that's weak will. Shirley told you to get over that." Another part of me countered.

"But surely walking the rest of the way to town in these temperatures is recklessness." Yet another thought chimed in.

"So do I give in to weak will or recklessness? Either way seems wrong." My confliction and confusion were growing as I stopped walking and just stood by the road side trying to decide my next move.

I decided to try and look at it from a logical perspective, like the computer was always going on about. Ok, so if I kept walking it was highly unlikely that I would make it to town and back before dark, when it would get even colder and I might just well freeze to death (hey, my hoodie wasn't _that_ thick). If I went back, I'd have to face Eustace's calumny. Sure, it wouldn't be pleasant, but I would get over it, right? So, from a logical standpoint, it made sense to just turn back. Despite this reasoning however, my body was unwilling to obey my mind and I just stood there by the side of the road staring at the horizon in the direction of town before looking back at the farmhouse for a minute and then looking back toward town. As strange as it seemed, I would rather have faced hypothermia rather than Eustace's insults.

My mind and body were still wrestling with each other when I heard a sound that made me turn my head back toward the farm house. A car was speeding down the road, kicking up dust as it went, leaving a big tan cloud in its wake. Seeing this, I immediately stuck my thumb out in the classic hitchhiker gesture. The car was a red convertible that was following the old Nowhere precedent of breaking the speed limit by at least twenty miles. Furthermore, the car was not slowing down as it neared me. Suddenly fearing for my life, I leapt off to the side and landed belly first on the ground with my hands covering my head.

'SCREEEEEEEEEEEECH!'

The loud squealing of brakes caused me to look up and I was greeted by a cloud of dirt. Coughing furiously and blinking my eyes against the storm of particles assaulting my eyes, I stood up. As the dust began to settle, I could see the convertible had stopped and the driver, a Asian guy wearing sunglasses, was giving me a look that would have struck me dead if looks could kill.

"Watch where you're going, you _**foo**_!" he shouted before speeding off, throwing more dirt at me.

"Yeah…uhuh…well…uhuh…same to you…uhuhuhuh…fella!" I called after him through coughs. I doubt he heard me though.

"Need a ride?" the question seemed to come out of nowhere and I jumped in surprise.

Whirling around I saw another car that had stopped just behind where the Asian guy had. It was probably following him and I had not been able to see it due to the dust cloud being kicked up by the red convertible. The car was black, and while it was not a convertible, was still a nice looking machine. I approached the open window and as I did, the driver became visible to me.

It was a woman with short cut, black hair and dark green eyes. She was smiling at me as I approached.

"Hello, Courage." She greeted me warmly.

Then, it dawned on me. No wonder she looked so familiar.

"Kitty?" I said in amazement.

"The one and only." Katherine Gale (her friend's called her Kitty) replied.

"Oh my gosh, I thought you and Betty had moved away." I was still just shocked to see her.

"We did, but then Mad Dog got put in jail, so we decided to move to Nowhere. I got a job working with the paper." The latter explained.

"Wow…well…I mean….it's great to see you."

"You gonna just stand there kiddo or are you gonna get in?" Kitty asked, gesturing toward the passenger's seat.

I moved around the car and hopped in. No sooner was I buckled in, than Kitty slammed on the gas and the car sped off down the expanse of black asphalt before it.

"So how have you and Betty been?" I asked, trying to mask my nervousness (I never like going fast in cars).

"I've been much better since me and Bunny (the nickname Katherine often called Betty) have been back together. Of course, it hasn't been easy for her, you know. She has a lot to work through. Mad Dog did things to her…well…let's not go into it. Sufficed to say, it was some pretty bad stuff." Kitty explained as we continued on our course toward town.

"So what about you, what have you been up to?" she asked me.

"I've been at boarding school for the last four years. I actually just got back yesterday."

"Really, how was that?"

"Eh….not bad I guess. I made a few friends, but not much else. I guess you could say I'm a good student, I mean…I didn't make bad grades…but you know…I got my diploma so that must mean something."

Kitty laughed.

"Well that's great. Where do you plan to go to college?"

"Well…I…umm…I haven't really thought about it really." I admitted.

"Not even what you want to major in? Better get going on that kiddo, you don't wanna be stuck here the rest of your life."

"But you and Betty are here."

"Yeah…we are."

The awkward silence that followed told me a lot.

"You didn't want to move here." I observed.

Kitty was silent for a moment.

"…There are a lot of bad memories here…for both of us. It was Bunny's idea, really. She said that we couldn't move on until we confronted things. I'm sure that stupid therapist of hers probably told her that. I can't stand the guy. He's one of those pompous jerks who probably graduated from some Ivy League college and thinks he knows everything and that he's God's gift to…" Kitty started to ranting, and I started to zone out.

I like Kitty, she was a kind woman and was loyal to her friends, but sometimes she had a tendency to tell you her opinion (all of her opinion) even if you didn't want to hear all of it. Still, I could understand where she was coming from. Plenty of my own bad memories were here in Nowhere, most of them involving Eustace of course. Not all of them, of course. Fred was in a few of them, as was Mad Dog himself. There was also creepy librarian from the Nowhere Library. She gave me the creeps. This thought got me wondering if Miss Shush was still head librarian, or if she had retired by now. She was already pretty old when I first saw her when I was eleven.

"Courage…COURAGE!" Kitty's annoyed voice brought me back to reality.

"Huh?" I asked confusedly, turning to look at her once more.

Kitty shook her head.

"I asked: what brings you into town." She repeated.

"Oh…the super says that if I'm gonna stay at the farmhouse, I gotta start paying rent." I explained.

"That son-of-a-bitch, he's still being a jerk I see." Kitty muttered.

She and Eustace had met, and…well…let's just say that there wasn't much love lost between them.

"Has he finally learned how to fix something?" she asked.

"Define 'fixed'…." I said with an eyebrow raised.

"Ha, you should start calling him Useless Eustace." Kitty suggested with a hearty laugh.

We both laughed then. It was nice, to finally be hanging out with someone who wasn't trying to insult me or scare me. Looking ahead, I could see the buildings coming into view. We were almost in Nowhere, Kansas; a quaint little town that lived up to its name: it was in the middle of nowhere. The nearest other town, Trackside, where Kitty and Betty were originally from, was a good thirty miles away. It was nice place; don't get me wrong, I couldn't ask for a better home town than Nowhere.

"So listen…" once again Kitty cut into my thoughts, "…let me just swing by the apartment. You can say 'hi' to Bunny, I'm sure she'd be really glad to see you. I'll get the key to the newspaper office. Then, we'll stop by the Nowhere News offices and I'll give you a copy of tomorrow's want ads. You can have an edge over the competition for jobs."

"That'd be great, thanks Kitty." I thanked her gratefully. Her offer was definitely going to make job hunting easier.

"No problem, kiddo." The latter said with a smile.

Before long we were driving through the streets of Nowhere. It being such a small town, I found myself recognizing a lot of the people who were walking around. I saw Jean Bon, the local butcher, a fat, bald man with a hearty laugh. I also spotted Elena, a Hispanic lady with a love of skydiving. The town itself had not changed much, just like the farmhouse, but I guess that was imaginable. Nothing ever changed in Nowhere.

We reached a large, brownstone building that was about five stories high. Here, Kitty parked on the side of the street.

"Here we are." She said rather grandly, gesturing toward the building, "home sweet home."

I got out of the car and gazed up at the apartments. It was not the royal palace, but then I somehow doubted that Kitty and Betty could afford a super expensive place. Glancing to the right of me, I found myself looking at a much finer home. It was a house that had been built a few blocks down from the apartment. It stood out, since it looked so much newer and fresher than the old, brownstone buildings around it. It even had a front lawn with grass so green, it seemed as though the ground was made of emeralds.

That was when I saw him…

He was a tall man, who looked to be in his forties. He was wearing a white smoking jacket with a rose pinned into the collar with a pair of black slacks. He reminded me of James Bond, which I found kind of funny. The thing that stood out the most about him was his hair. It was a bright red color, and was slicked back with some sort of hair product. It looked like something you might see on a gangster from one of those old 1950s movies like 'Grease'. The man, who was standing on his front stoop was looking out over his lawn. I guess he liked to admire it, and why not, it was a very impressive lawn.

"You just gonna stand there?" Kitty called to me, she was already waiting with the door to the building open.

"Huh? Oh…yeah…coming." I said slowly, walking over to the door.

Kitty headed inside, but I hesitated as I was about to go in. I decided to take one more look at the red-haired man, and glanced back at his house. My heart jumped when I saw that the man was now staring _right at me_. No kidding. We actually locked eyes. I didn't know what it was, but something in those eyes gave me the willies. They were dark, greenish blue and seemed to hold a calm, cold regard in them. Now desperate to avoid his eyes, I quickly went inside the building and followed Kitty up the stairs. I couldn't keep his eyes from my head though. For some strange reason, just the thought of them seemed to fill me with a sense of dread.

"Man…" I thought.

"….that was so weird."

* * *

_Hello, back again. No reviews to give shout outs to this time, shame :(. In the meantime, we get to see Kitty and Bunny again. Any guesses as to the identity of the man with the red hair? Until next time, cheers. _


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